


Synchronicity

by PoisonJack



Series: FebuWhump 2021; star wars; borderlands fills [4]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: General au, Hurt/Comfort, Impaling, M/M, Poe's implied survivor's guilt, Spy Armitage Hux, Whump, implied post TROS but i doesn't matter too much, non graphic injury description despite the fact, psuedo medical nonsense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 04:53:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29254767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoisonJack/pseuds/PoisonJack
Summary: Poe crash lands on an unknown planet after experiencing an anomaly in hyper-space, and wakes up in a cell guarded by a species he's never seen before.In the cell next to him is a man he thought was dead. But if he doesn't act fast, things might stay that way.This is for day 4 ofFebuWhumpover on tumblr :) The prompt was 'impaling'.
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Armitage Hux, gingerpilot - Relationship
Series: FebuWhump 2021; star wars; borderlands fills [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2140923
Comments: 4
Kudos: 34





	Synchronicity

**Author's Note:**

> These are my fast-fills for FebuWhump, so avoid looking too closely at plot holes HAHAH :D

“Hey! _Hey_! Listen to me, he’s gonna _die_ if you don’t let me stop that bleeding... _Hey!_ ” Poe was trying to get the attention of their jailer; a reptilian humanoid similar in form to a Trandoshan, though where they had two arms, this one had _four_. 

He didn’t know where he was-- he’d only seen the planet from orbit before some sort of anomaly was recorded, and then he was crashing- and then he’d woken up here in this weird cell on an oddly-warm stone block. He thought he’d been hallucinating when he realized there was someone in the cell next to him- the _last_ person he ever expected to see.

He’d thought at first that he must’ve died in the crash landing-- that he was seeing a ghost in some kind of limbo of his own. He’d had reports that Armitage Hux-- the _Starkiller_ , their _spy_ , villain and antihero in his own right- was killed in action. Apparently the force had _other_ plans for the general, because Hux was definitely lying there and that was definitely the blood of a _living_ man dripping down the side of the slab.

There was no way this could just be a simple coincidence. More like divine providence. Or maybe Poe _had_ hit his head _really_ hard in the crash, because there could be no way that he was getting a second chance to act where he hadn’t before; to _save_ Hux like any of them wanted to be saved. 

He’d regretted leaving the man behind ever since he’d done it, and Hux’s death weighed on him with everyone else he felt he’d used as pieces in a battle. 

To get a second chance to make things right, though….

Poe had checked his head further for injury just in case, still not uncertain that he wasn’t just hallucinating. But then, he didn’t think he’d hallucinate the ex-First Order general in such mundane clothing… or hallucinate a slow-bleeding wound on an unfamiliar world.

Hux’s chest moved up and down in shallow breath, so he was still alive, but he wouldn’t rouse no matter how loud Poe was in trying to get his attention. He wouldn’t be alive for much longer if his wounds weren’t seen to soon. Hux wasn’t even fully _on_ the wide rectangle of stone, his body at an angle and legs over the side as if he’d been hastily dropped there. Poe didn’t know how badly Hux was injured, or even how long the other man had been there before Poe was brought here too, but it was clear that he needed _help_.

Poe stuck his whole arm out between the bars that made up their cells, now waving madly. His attention was split between desperately trying to appeal to the guard, and looking at the thin line of red down the side of the stone Hux lay on. “I’m telling you, he needs _help_! Come _on_!”

His appeals either hit their mark, or Poe had annoyed the non-human enough to peak his curiosity, because he came down to their cells to peer into Hux’s with scrutiny. The guard’s voice was apathetic. “He’ll regenerate. He’s already hibernating.”

Poe’s mouth opened, but no words came out. He didn’t know anything about this species, but _clearly_ they didn’t receive many human visitors. Or at least, not injured ones.

“Humans don’t work like that,” Poe said with an urgent shake of his head. The guard scoffed. “Look at the blood, man. Bleeding usually stops after so long for any species, right?” Poe was taking a guess as to how long they’d been there, but it had to be a couple of hours at least. Moreover, if the guard thought that Hux should be ‘regenerating’, then the fact that he was actively bleeding should’ve brought that line into question. “He’s hurt really bad if he’s _still_ bleeding. You gotta let me take a look at him. Please.”

The jailer looked between them, scratching the back of his head with one hand, another on his waist, and still another toying with keys at his belt. He pointed at Poe with his last hand, staring him down with ice-blue eyes. “If he dies, you’ll be blamed for it, mammal.”

Poe gave a blink for what he was pretty sure was an insult, but didn’t care. “I don’t want him to die. I want to help. _Please_.”

There was a long look over Poe, taking him and his strange anatomy into clear consideration of the request. He must’ve decided that a human would be best treating another human, because Poe got his wish.

Poe was made to stand with his back to the four-armed guard, facing the wall with arms on the back of his head while the doors were unlocked and secured. The width of the doors when fully opened spanned the hall, subsequently blocking it off in sections to contain various cells. He then gave Poe instructions to turn, walk directly out, and move directly into the neighboring cell to take up the same stance in Hux’s. 

Escape crossed his mind for only a moment, but Hux’s unknown injury, the large, curved-blade on the humanoid’s back, and all four of those arms to take on by _himself_ was enough of a deterrent. He couldn’t escape without the other man either-- Hux was the whole _reason_ the war was won, and he didn’t deserve to die here. Regardless of what anyone else might think.

Poe wouldn’t just leave him to his own chances again. 

With the turning of the key in the lock, Poe looked over his shoulder, but he was left in Hux’s cell without much more regard. The guard left in much the same mood of apparent apathy as he’d arrived. Poe didn’t waste time gawking, instead turning to the man the entire galaxy thought was dead.

Hux was wearing some sort of brown robes over long trousers and shirt-- a shock for how utterly normal he looked out of uniform. But there beneath the robe Poe saw it-- a piece of something sharp sticking out of the man’s side staining his shirt and puddling blood beneath him. 

Poe could only guess how deep it was in there. It looked like a piece of broken metal-- part of a ship’s console, maybe? Something else?- and it stuck right through the material of his shirt and into his torso. There might not be much Poe could do if he couldn’t remove that. And he _shouldn’t--_ not without bandages and something to stick in the hole- but without supplies, basic first aid would only go so far.

Poe just about jumped out of his skin as he’d been so focused on being careful with triaging Hux that he didn’t notice that the four-armed guard was back. A small, simple cloth satchel was tossed into the cell behind Poe-- _mammal’s medicines_ , the guard specified- and he was told he better not be lying about medical intent, and to fix him if the man wouldn’t regenerate on his own.

Poe wasn’t going to question his good luck and the surprising decency. Maybe things _would_ work out. He dug into the bag and found the components of a ship’s medkit. There was bacta, bandages, and some other ointments and creams for burns. A trauma kit as well which actually looked like exactly what he needed, but no tools or tweezers of any kind to pull the thing out of him.

He’d have to do this with his hands, then.

Poe opened an alcohol wipe that was graciously present, cleaning his hands and going over his plan once more in his head.

It passed a lot faster in reality than it felt to Poe. Removing the piece of metal impaling Hux’s side, the man twitching in some form of awareness while Poe literally patched him up. Quickly staunching the wound, applying the bacta, _waiting_. 

...Scared it might be too little too late as Hux went further pale from the pain.

Hux’s lashes fluttered several times before he opened them enough to frown with disbelief up into Poe’s face. Poe couldn’t help smiling as he held his hands over Hux’s bacta-laden injury, having followed the instructions on the packet. The wound-sealing medical bio-foam was doing its job, and he stopped counting in his head, certain the seal would now hold on the wound. He just hoped nothing important had suffered too greatly beyond the quick fix that would buy them some time. If any of his organs had been pierced, Hux would still need medical attention.

“You’re not hallucinating. I’m really here,” Poe as their eyes met, thinking Hux was probably wondering the same thing he had upon setting eyes on him. “You’re the last person I expected to see, either, but that’s okay. You’re hurt pretty bad, and I just bandaged the wound. I think you might’ve crashed landed here like I did... ”

Hux bodily shuddered and grimaced as pain flashed through him, eyes shut and skin ashen. “....Dameron…”

“Yeah,” Poe said, worry shooting through him as Hux looked-- _frankly-_ like absolute _hell_. “Hey, you’ve got a friend here, okay? I’m just trying to help. You hang in there for me, Hugs.”

Hux made a face at the nickname. “... _Dameron.”_ There was a sort of recognition to his tone, as if to say ‘Oh _. You_.’

Poe just smiled.

If Hux had the energy to be annoyed at him, then he was optimistic that he wasn’t on death’s doorstep. Or at least, he _hoped_ so. Really, Hux needed to be seen by someone with more than just battlefield patches and first-aid kits. It got Poe thinking.

The jailer had cared enough not to let Hux die. Maybe he could get him to help him again.

Hux shivered despite the warmth of the rock slab he was laying on, and Poe removed his jacket to throw over the other man’s chest to try and make him comfortable. 

He was going to need _real_ medical attention, and sooner rather than later. Poe had no idea if there were other complications from the metal that had impaled the other man, but Hux was going to live if it was the last thing Poe did.

He wasn’t going to let him down. Not when the universe was clearly giving him another chance to make things right.

Poe stuck his arm through the bars to frantically wave and holler for their four-armed jailer again.

He felt a sprig of hope as the guard once again gave him his attention.

**Author's Note:**

> Have you guys actually seen that foam that that high schooler(?) made for massive, massive injuries (femoral breaks for example)? Like that stuff is the _shit_. I don't think it's been approved yet for widespread use but it was bitchin' and straight out of sci-fi and that's just cool shit :)
> 
> [my star wars tumblr](http://go-hux-yourself.tumblr.com/) | [my fic archive masterlist](https://go-hux-yourself.tumblr.com/post/187723542337/poisonjack-ao3-fic-archive)| [my twitter](https://twitter.com/PurgeThatUrge)


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